So, did anyone get snow today? Dull and drizzling here, no matter, the 'Cheviots' commission is done and the next one on it's way to finishing, as long as I don't dally (like, blogging, not painting?).
I've a couple of workshops to rehearse for the weekend and plenty busy till then.

I still have to finish this painting, and will do so from the relative comfort of the house; it is a cold, but, lovely day, today (clouding over now). The clouds were just scraping the top of Cheviot and Hedgehope, a little blue sky peeking through and the occasional splash of sun on the snow; cold on the face and hands after an hour, though, and the wind blowing my paintbox over was enough to have me pack up and go home, for the time being.
What the paintnig needs is a little row of red roofed cottages in the lower left of the picture and some more fine definition of hedges and edges of fields. I am conscious of the skyline, which is not to scale, quite, and the great, arching wave of land that crests in front of the hills is not so defined as I'd like.
I need a couple of small, flat brushes that leave a clean line, (not-to-mention more stamina for staying outside) and the self-control to leave the painting alone when it tells me to.

Sometimes I suffer from a kind of 'other-headedness' which can throw my work routine and put pay to creativity quicker than a boot up the self-esteem:
'Other-headedness' to me, is the onset of a cloud of 'should'; a feeling that, whatever task I'm performing that I should be doing something else.
When the kids were younger, it was fairly simple; I was with the kids, so felt the urgency of work pressing me, taking away my concentration and, more importantly, my appreciation. When I was painting I would suffer guilt at leaving my chicks too long, or pay the price for leaning on friends and family.
Now I deal with a three-way split- guess I'm so damn good now, I get a promotion? The writing I do, or don't do, bubbles away till I get ill and have to deal with it. Great dollops of prose then need clarified, made palatable for human consumption. Teaching dance needs a regular feed, and that could be as little as a spin or two round the front room, or a session picking apart a flavour combination to see what its component parts are.
The painting is the biggest deal; I suppose I identify with it most closely. It's something I've done for a long, long time and illustrates most vividly my life experience. I serve this craft most, for, when I'm not up to scratch, it just ain't there. I can put on some music and move my muscles, stretch out and feel a little taller; I can spill a ream of angst in ballpoint pen and empty my plate, but the painting? Still a mistress, for the most part, apart from the odd apology, oil-incident, frivilous sketch. It is the least playful area of my life, even though I have come to realise how important playing is. If I hear a voice dismissing 'play' as a child's indulgence, or someone's 'too busy' I know, for a fact, dagnabbit, they need it more than I do.
Don't get me wrong, I am a fortunate, appreciative person and I really don't have a concept of what I would be doing if I wasn't doing this, right now; I just look for what works better and see that if I have been dealt good cards I want to make the most of them, not throw them away simply because I feel someone else isn't getting as a good a deal, or because I feel unworthy.
I posted this because I know this feeling can strike other folk, too and I wanted to communicate my empathy.

It may be cold, grey and miserable outside, but my studio is toastie warm; a bijoux 8ft x 10ft with foil-backed lining and boarded out. A halogen heater glows smugly in the corner.

Cosy, hmm? Yes, and very necessary. I have an oil painting ready for a client which WILL NOT DRY!

It has lived a gentle existence in our airing cupboard for nearly one month, with no apparent effects so it is time for a more direct approach. If I had a sunbed, baby, that little bit of paper would have been soaking up some rays, as we speak.

I'm just hoping the pictures recipient will be understanding.

With an excuse akin to 'the dog ate my homework,' I'm not convinced.

I'm off to finish a triptych so I can clear away my oils and face up to another metre-square canvas.

love to all.

Inter-dimensional matter transporter...

..well, across the North East will do; I've double-booked. Call me greedy, but after I booked The Moot Hall in Hexham for an exhibition from the 28th Sept to the 4th October, I couldn't turn down the opportunity to have work at the NewcastleGateshead Art Fair, at The sage, from 1st-4th October.
Give a choice of puddings, always prefer a little of each, quite frankly.
I don't actually have to be at Gatehead all the time; both Mick Oxley (whose gallery is to host my work) and collegue Michelle Milburn propose to attend, all the time- only, it's daft not to show my face, it being such a good opportunity to network, and more importantly, to help!
I am at the preview, for sure, so it would be lovely to see anyone who makes the night. I will have some tickets. Get in touch if you want some. Or, come along to Hexham, it is pot luck, I will be there some days, or it will be my good friend, Tanya, (who, I suspect, will represent my work better than I).
And, of course, if anyone comes up with a matter transporter in the mean time, let me know?

A few months ago, a freelance cameraman phoned me to ask if I'd take part in a local film project about the environmental heritage of North Northumberland. Well, I've met Jimmy before, through promotional work for Alnwick Garden, and thought, 'Hey, why not?' There would be, I knew, an opportunity to showcase my painting, and the project sounded worthwhile; a lot of the work included children at a local school and I think it is important to feel good about the area you live in, and feel proud. The media works to convince people that the party's always somewhere else in order to sell ideas. If you feel good about yourself, and where you live, you can take or leave the barrage of advertising angled at pressing the self-doubt buttons. Kids growing up in rural locations can be made to feel they are missing out on a shinier, more sophisticated 'lifestyle' and will be very negative about their patch. Having felt that myself, I'm very happy to see projects that celebrate the area...ANYWAY, off the soapbox, I was on the beach on Thursday afternoon, madly mixing far too much cobalt blue and alizarin crimson, fretting about painting an en plein air oil in front of camera and two programme presenters. I may have chopped every comment with a hideous self-depreciating statement as my Lindisfarne seemed less castle-like and more a table jelly, the sea was so flat it was practically concave, I ran out of 'sand colour' and dropped brush after brush into the sand. What a palaver I made, what a fuss. The idea had been that the couple interviewing me would happen upon me as I was taken by the muse, exchange a few pleasantries and say their goodbyes. This was to be linked with a piece already completed, in my home, featuring some more talk and views of the paintings. It all sounded so easy, so professional; no doubt Jimmy will edit the bumbling (on my part, both Nina and Bob were relaxed and focussed) fool to appear (briefly) cohesive and interesting.

I made reference to using the finished article to light my fire, later, so neurotic was I, by the time the filming ended. Jimmy suggested we raffle the offending (my term) article at the showing of the film, and during Seahouses festival to raise money for a local charity. I stepped back from the painting and the four of us contemplated as a low black cloud hid the last rays of warm spring sun from us. 'It needs distance.' said Bob.

'About three miles?' I thought.

Then I took my s**t-tinted spectacles off. Yes, the painting's fine.

'You need to stop saying such negative things about yourself, you aren't doing yourself any good.' The wise, good-looking, twenty-year-old Nina proffered as we said our goodbyes in the car park.

Thank you, Nina.

I decided not to participate in the Art Tour this year; a difficult decision as I've had an open studio event twice a year since 2002. I felt I was getting into a rut and with hindsight, the summer deadline didn't really suit my pattern of working. I decided, if my thoughts about the forthcoming event were less than positive I should give it up; for the moment, at least.

Saying that, I'm having my own little 'thing' on the 10th & 11th of April, a smaller scale do; give folk a chance to see the work I've been producing lately-

Because I have been working. Nothing like a deadline, is there? Where the absence of Art Tour left a space, opportunities have arisen. First, I booked space at an art fair; Untitled has been sending info since it began, and I bit the bullet, despite my fear of driving down to LDN myself, fear of driving back myself, car still packed to the rear view mirror- all the doubts, excuses have been swept away; I'm exhibiting on the May bank holiday weekend. We shall see how that goes.

My second opportunity is an exhibition at Stark Gallery in Canterbury. I dimly remember sending envelopes of images and information out last year without any response from the galleries I contacted; till now, that is. The 10-15 pieces of work have to be at the gallery before May 3rd. Life has just got exciting. I do have a lot of pieces of work at home- I do need, I feel, to send a cohesive collection of paintings so I'm signing off to go into the studio; but not before mentioning UKYOUTH with whom I'm exhibiting 4 canvases (or is it 6?) at the end of this month...and a commission.

I'm not complaining, you understand, just (gulp) saying 'bye for now'!

My website will hopefully be back up soon, too.

OOH it's all me, me, me...

Thank you to everyone who attended the dance workshops on Saturday, and the hafla in the evening; especially thanks to Ali, a fabulous teacher who we hope to see more of. Thanks, too to Mags for leading our erratic drumming. Our post-workshop food was fab, too, so thanks to Paula, too!

Altogether a successful event, here's too the next!

Meanwhile, a few paintings from the last few weeks, mostly on quite a small scale, which is very satisfying to work with and gets me away from worrying too much about details that, in hindsight, mean little to the finished painting.

I enjoyed, very much, the palette of an early morning walk in the snow; the golden sunshine picking out the dried grass, the blue shadows cast on the white. So glad the spring is coming, though. I'm ready for the sun to warm my bones.